


Color Blind

by isthisenoughorcanwegohigher



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Multi, because they deserve to be happy damnit, if canon won't make them happy then I WILL, this is entirely self indulgent soulmate au shit for the maze runner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher/pseuds/isthisenoughorcanwegohigher
Summary: Newt doesn't believe in the idea of soulmates anymore. He's left that childish notion behind, even with the proof of it all around him. He knows that his soulmate is out there somewhere, because his world is still in shades of blacks and whites and greys, and because his sister has met hers. Despite all his trying, Newt has to learn someday that your destiny isn't something you can run away from, even if that destiny is the person you're meant to love for the rest of your life. Or in Newt's case, people.





	1. Prologue // 2008

**Author's Note:**

> _Burned too bright, now the fire's gone_   
>  _Watch it all fall down_

Lizzie insisted that they get in an extra run, even while the sun set and the temperature dropped well below freezing. She wanted to spend as much time with her newly found soulmate as possible. If that meant that the rest of her family froze out on the slopes and were late for work and school the next morning, that was fine with her. Lizzie just wanted to appreciate the colors of the sunset for the first time, silhouetted by the white mountainside and green pine trees that she could now see. She wanted to enjoy the vibrant red of her soulmate’s jacket, and she wanted to call her name as she sped down the mountain, kicking up snow behind her with every sharp turn.

Carol and Jack didn’t mind one bit. Their youngest child had found her soulmate, nothing was more important than that.

Newt minded. He was just starting high school, and he still hadn’t found his own soulmate. His parents had found each other in high school, and Lizzie was in seventh grade, and she’d found hers. But he hadn’t found his, and he was getting worried that he never would. Still, he would wait, because Newt minded less and less every time he caught a glimpse of Lizzie smiling. It would be worth it, he thought, to finally find his soulmate, no matter who they were. All of this would be worth it.

Still, the fact remained that the Samuels family had to drive back down to the city at some point, so they could be at work and school the next day, and unpack and clean the house, so it was the perfect visage of a model home when Newt’s grandparents arrived from London to visit for Christmas.

After a tearful goodbye was exchanged between Lizzie and Harriet, and they promised to find each other on Facebook--which made Newt sigh, the newest edition in a line of social media sites wasn’t really all it was cracked up to be for him--the Samuels family piled into their minivan, ski gear and all, and started the drive home.

In the days that followed that drive, Lizzie found that she locked herself in her room, refusing to come out. She blamed herself. If she hadn’t insisted on staying, then they wouldn’t have been driving so late at night on the treacherous mountain roads.

Newt found himself going numb, blocking out his reality with music so loud it broke his speakers, ignoring everyone and everything around him. He refused to acknowledge the tragedy, refused to acknowledge his own pain. It didn’t help that he was confined to the living room couch during the day, broken leg propped up on a stack of pillows. Time passed in a whirlwind of uneaten meals and thought-dulling cartoons.

Carol and Jack Samuels were laid to rest three days before Christmas that year. Family and friends alike gathered to say their farewells. Everyone was there, even Harriet, who squeezed Lizzie’s hand and dried her tears before they could freeze in the frigid winter air. Everyone was there except Newt, who, earlier that morning, had screamed at his grandparents that he refused to go to the funeral and thrown his phone at the wall, shattering the screen and rendering the device useless.

The day after Christmas, the Samuels’ house was empty of all personal belongings, which had been safely packed in shipping boxes, the decorations were donated to local charities, Newt and Lizzie shoved their suitcases into the back of the rental car, and their Grandpa Cole drove the now family of four to the airport to start their new life.


	2. Chapter One // 2014 // Newt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Don't waste your time on me_   
>  _You're already the voice inside my head_

_ He heard the squeal of tires before he saw the car, driver frantic and terrified, neither car able to stop before the screech of twisting metal echoed in his ears. Then there was nothing. Then there was pain, an overwhelming cloud of pain, so intense that it smothered everything else. There was no sound, no roar of the cold night wind, no crackling of flames, no short, labored breaths, no cries. There was only pain. _

 

Newt shot up in bed, fingers clutching the sheets tightly, palms sticky and face slick. Whether the moisture on his cheeks was tears or sweat, he couldn’t tell. He could never really tell. He never really wanted to. It didn’t matter. It was six years later, and he still had the nightmares, could still feel the chill of the air, a sharp contrast to the heat of the fire, could still hear Lizzie’s terrified cries as he lay with her in her hospital bed, shaking, wondering what would happen to them now.

A few shaky breaths later, Newt managed to release his grasp on the sheets. He was in his third year of college, working two jobs, and looking at going abroad--a suggestion of Frypan and Gally’s, who thought that a semester away from his family would do Newt a world of good.

 

_ “You might finally meet your soulmate!” Frypan had said, shoving the application papers across the table one day. “C’mon, man, you could use the time away, and besides, America won’t be so great without the three of us there. We’re the three Musketeers, remember?” _

_ Gally groaned at the nickname. “Seriously, Fry? We’re almost out of school forever, and you’re still calling us that?” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ Frypan shot Gally a mischievous grin and turned back to Newt. “Come on. Do it! I’ll get down on my knees and beg if you--” _

_ “Oh my god, okay, I’ll do it,” Newt groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Only to get you to shut up about it, though.” _

_ Frypan cheered. _

_ “Shut up!” Gally and Newt spoke together. _

 

Shaking his head at the memory, Newt swung his legs out of bed, letting his feet hit the carpet. His left leg was stiff with pain. Something about the nightmare made his leg ache all over again, a phantom remembrance of that night. He kneaded his calf, willing his leg to cooperate long enough to at least stumble into the bathroom down the hall. A splash of cold water on his face would do him good.

The door to his room creaked open, the grinding of the hinges loud in the silence. Newt winced. 

He stumbled his way into the bathroom, feeling his way by hand--his fingers dragged down the rough wall, across the peeling paint on the doorframe, and he pulled himself into the bathroom, swinging the door shut quietly behind him.

He found the light switch without issue, and the lights sparked to life.

“Shit!” Newt hissed, jumping as his eyes adjusted to the light and Lizzie sitting on the counter, waiting for him. He cursed his exhaustion for not picking up on the fact that his younger sister was in the room sooner. 

She’d know, of course, why he was here, and she’d baby him, which always made him want to scream, or maybe cry. He was her older brother, he should be the one waiting up for her to shake off the remnants of a nightmare.

“Hey, brother,” Lizzie greeted softly, her lips quirking into something resembling a smile. “Nightmare?”

Newt rolled his eyes. What else would it be? He rarely got up in the middle of the night for anything else.

Lizzie sighed. “How’s your leg?”

“ ‘S not as bad this time.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up, Sonya” Newt grumbled, Lizzie’s middle name slipping out in a bitingly sarcastic tone. “What are you doing up, anyways?”

“Harriet called,” Lizzie explained, ignoring Newt’s jab at her name. She held out her phone and shook her hand lightly. “She just got back from her weekend trip to that debate tournament--her team won!”

It was hard to remain crabby with his sister when she was smiling that brightly, her pride for her soulmate evident in the way her eyes crinkled.

“Good for her. Tell her congratulations from me when it’s not the bloody crack of dawn, yeah?”

Lizzie giggled at Newt’s use of British slang. It was one of the things he’d picked up on when they’d moved in with their grandparents, and one of the things he continued to use, despite how odd the words sounded with his half American, half British accent.

“Where’s the--?” Newt’s question was cut off as Lizzie tossed him the pill bottle he’d been after. “Thanks.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lizzie hopped off the counter and walked over to the door, cracking it open. “You know, you could always see someone. Talking to someone who knows how to help might make the nightmares stop.”

She slipped out the door and shut it behind her before Newt could reply.

He studied himself in the mirror, running his hands through his bedraggled hair. Lizzie had told him more than once that his hair was a nice honey blond color, but Newt couldn’t see it. All he saw was a shade of grey that was darker than his skin, darker than the light glowing from the ceiling, lighter than the shadows his hand cast on his neck.

“Maybe I don’t want the nightmares to stop,” he said to his reflection, which only stared back at him.

With a shake of his head, Newt popped two of his pain meds into his mouth and dry swallowed them, grimacing. Screw cold water, he just wanted to go back to sleep now. The irritation was already chasing the exhaustion from his body.

He flicked off the light in the bathroom and limped back down the hall, mind drifting back to his blurry memories of the accident.


End file.
